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"THE NAKED TRUTH!" 



Hn flnstbe Ibistor^ 



OF 



ZheMnck Crook 



BY 



JOSEPH WHITTON. 







Copyrighted, 1897, by Joseph Whitton. 



H. W. SHAW CO., PHILA. 



PREFACE. 

IT is curious that the history of the 
Black Crook — the pioneer of the American 
Spectacular Drama, and greater in tinseled 
gorgeousness and money-drawing power 
than any of its followers — should never 
have been told, or, rather, truthfully told. 
There have been many professed records of 
it, no two of them alike, and all of them 
incorrect or incomplete. Now, if the mat- 
ter be of sufficient importance to record at 
all, it is due to the reader that the back- 
bone of the record, at least, be truth. 
With this view the narrator undertakes the 
task. His connection with the financial 
department of Niblo's Garden, previous to 
the production and during the run of the 
Crook, enables him to know the facts ; and 
these the reader also may know, if his 
patience be strong enough to bear him 

through the following pages. 

J. W. 



A SKELETON OF CONTENTS. 



Jarrett & Palmer's search for "Staple Articles" 
and the " Beauties of Nature " — Silks and Satins ver- 
sus Paper-muslin — Niblo's Garden the cradle of the 
Crook — Purchasing the right to play the great drama — 
The value of "a look into the seeds of Time " — The 
Crook's author begins to gather in his royal harvest — 
His love for a joke, and how he saddled one on an 
early caller — A city of bears and icebergs — A block in 
the way of the Crook's production — It took a $10,000 
broom to brush the way clear— Beginning prepara- 
tions — Their costliness, and extent of outlay before 
completion — The outlay not long in coming back — 
The Barnum-Bennett squabble — A fox without a tail — 
The showman's diplomatic sand-bag, and how he used 
it — "This establishment does not advertise in the 
New York Herald'''' — Bennett and his gold-edged 
abuse — New York and Sodom and Gomorrah in the 
same boat — The virtues of smoked glass— The Pulpit's 
war on the Crook— Smyth's batteries at Cooper Insti- 
tute — Bombarding the fair breastworks of the Crook — 
Brimstone has no terrors for the New Yorker — The 
Crook loses one of its props — Bill of the first night — 
Nightly expenses — Salaries of the Ballet — length of 
run, and the fortunes made for those who had a finger 
in the Crook's pie — The Crook in a literary light — A 
hint to managers. 



AN INSIDE HISTORY 

OF 

THE BLACK CROOK. 



Early in the summer of '66 Messrs. 
Jarrett & Palmer — the wide-famed thea- 
trical managers and speculators of those 
days — returned from Europe, whose prin- 
cipal cities they had ransacked in search of 
some gigantic attraction with which to 
dazzle and monopolize the attention of 
American theatre-goers and draw enough 
dollars from their pockets to comfortably 
line their own. 

After ripe deliberation they decided that 
a Grand Ballet would be the proper thing. 
Jarrett' s reasons for this were cogent, 
and his argument — as coming events were 
to prove — thoroughly sound. u I^egs are 
staple articles, and will never go out of 
fashion while the world lasts. They top 
the list of the 'Beauties of Nature,' and 
5 



we will gather an array of them that will 
make even the surfeited New Yorker open 
his eyes and his pocket and hold his breath 
in astonishment." 

Upon this line these cunning managers 
began their work. The most accomplished 
artistes and the prettiest women were picked 
from the leading theatres of London, Paris, 
Berlin, and Milan. No Ballet so complete 
in its ensemble, and with so ravishing a 
collection of the "Beauties of Nature," 
was ever before seen, or, if it were, cer- 
tainly not by cisatlantic eyes. 

The Ballet being completed, the next 
care of the managers was the costumes. 
These they had made in Paris, and with no 
regard to cost. The most expensive satins 
and silks were used, provided the needed 
effect and gorgeousness could not be 
obtained without them. No brummagem, 
no cheap sheen of paper-muslin, so long 
relied upon by the old-time economic man- 
ager to cheat the eyes of his patrons. All 
a true dream of splendor, a picture of glit- 
tering reality, to be hereafter displayed in 
a frame of bewildering enchantment. 

When all was ready, the two managers, 
with their troupe and its belongings, took 



passage for New York, arriving here, as I 
have said, in the early summer of '66. 

Niblo's Garden was then considered the 
most popular of New York's theatres, and 
not — what in after years it became — too far 
down town for the convenience of amuse- 
ment-seekers. The wholesale business 
houses were confined, with their nightly 
gloom and quiet, to that portion of Broad- 
way which lies below Canal Street. Im- 
mediately above the latter, the great 
thoroughfare commenced its dizzy whirl. 
And dizzy enough it was, and giddy 
enough, and gaudy enough, to satisfy the 
most hilarious owl and upset the bile of the 
sedate. Niblo's was in the midst of it all. 
Over its broad entrance flashed a sign bear- 
ing the name, formed of illuminated globes, 
and of more colors than "Joseph's coat." 
It was one of the nightly features of New 
York's artery, and its main object was to 
stop the flow of frisky blood and coax the 
boodled substance into the coffers of the 
box-office. 

The theatre was a complete one, famed 
for its beauty, and with a grip on public 
favor that some of its devotees thought 
everlasting. But, alas for the evanes- 



7 



cence of all earthly things ! The mortality 
of theatres seems no less sure than that of 
their goers ; and this one, so long the pride 
of the metropolis — this one, that cradled 
the Crook and nursed its growth into favor- 
hood — this one, that in the sixty-six years 
of its existence twice arose from its ashes, 
each time more beautiful than before, has 
at last given up the ghost, and now lies 
dead and buried with a sky-scraper for 
its tombstone. 

But to resume. On their arrival in New 
York, Jarrett & Palmer called upon Will- 
iam Wheatley, who was then lessee and 
manager of Niblo's, told him of the attrac- 
tion they had secured, and made a proposal 
that he should join them in the production 
of a spectacular drama, in which their 
Ballet would be introduced, using the stage 
of Niblo's for the purpose. Their proposal 
was accepted. 

The next consideration was how and 
where to obtain a piece that would answer 
their purpose. Delay was dangerous, for 
the salaries of the troupe had to be paid, 
whether they performed or not. Besides, 
it would take time, and a good deal of it, 
to prepare for the production of a spectac- 

8 



ular piece in the style they contemplated. 
Their intention was to be ready with it by 
the first week in September, and to do this 
would tax every hour of the intervening 
time. 

A few days after the agreement was 
signed between Jarrett & Palmer and 
Wheatley, and while I was busy over the 
books in the box-office, Wheatley sent 
word from his room in the Metropolitan 
that he wished to see me. When I entered 
he was busily occupied reading a manu- 
script, the nature of which my nearsight- 
edness prevented me knowing. He did 
not keep me long in doubt. Holding up 
the MS. in one hand, while he brought the 
other down on the desk before him with a 
thwack that made the chandelier-drops 
rattle, he said, or, rather, shouted : 

"My boy, congratulate me; I have a 
fortune here." 

4 "Where?" I asked, in innocent aston- 
ishment. 

* ' Where ? Why here, in my very grasp. ' ' 

He stopped, looked again at the manu- 
script, and then handed it to me. 

4 ' Ivook over that, my dear fellow, and 
tell me what you think of it. ' ' 
9 



I took the MS. and read upon the cover, 
in bold script letters, the words : 

THE BLACK CROOK, 

By Charges M. B arras. 

"Sit down, rny boy, and take your 
time, ' ' said Wheatley ; ( ' you surely can 
spare me an hour or two. ' ' 

Patiently did I devote myself to the task, 
and soon saw, .what Wheatley had already 
seen, that here was the very piece to fit the 
Ballet — a clothes-line, as it were, on which 
to hang the pretty dresses, besides afford- 
ing abundant opportunities for scenic dis- 
play. True, there was no originality in 
the plot — if it had a plot at all — being a 
medley made up of the Naiad Queen, 
Undine, Lurline, and two or three 
other spectacular dramas of like nature. 
Still, originality was a matter of little 
moment. It was just the wanted piece in 
every other respect, and, if the plot had no 
originality, the title certainly had enough 
of it to insure, as I thought, the success of 
the play. 

"Well," asked Wheatley, as I laid down 
the MS., "what do you think of it ? " 

IO 



" Think of it? Well, my opinion is 
you'll never find another piece so near to 
what you want. ' ' 

u So near? Why, it's exactly what we 
want. ' ' 

"And what does Barras ask for his 
drama ? ' ' 

"Ah, my boy, there's the rub. His 
terms are these : Two thousand dollars for 
the sole right to play it in New York City; 
we to play it so long as we like, but there 
must be no intermission in its run ; other- 
wise the contract ceases. What do you 
advise ? ' ' 

My advice was short. ' 'Accept his terms ; 
the title alone is worth all he asks for the 
play. ' ' 

( ' That is all very well ; but you forget 
that Jarrett & Palmer are entitled to their 
say in the matter." 

"True ; but they surely won't object." 

"Ah, but they do object. They both 
have been here and think Barras' terms 
beyond all reason. ' ' 

" Have they anything else to propose? " 

"Yes, they have two propositions. 
First, to have Daly write a play, which 
they think he will do for five hundred dol- 
ii 



lars. Second, to use the Naiad Queen, 
which can be had for nothing. ' ' 

' ' Have you given up all hope of win- 
ning thein over ? ' ' 

"By no means ; we will meet again 
to-morrow, and, though it is a matter of two 
to one, I think they will yield." 

The meeting took place and they did 
yield. Barras was sent for and the con- 
tract signed. 

If at that time their eyes had been sharp 
enough, as Banquo says, "to look into the 
seeds of time and say which grain will 
grow and which will not," they might 
have been fifty thousand dollars richer. A 
bold offer of ten thousand for the entire 
right to the piece would probably have 
been too great a temptation for Barras to 
resist ; and the sixty thousand, in the shape 
of royalties which, in a few months, he 
scooped into his pocket, would have gone 
into their own. They did try it on after- 
wards, but it was too late. ' ' The seeds of 
time" had already sprouted with all the 
agility of Jack's beanstalk, and Barras 
laughed at their offer as he busied himself 
gathering in his royal harvest. 

Experience, as we know, is not the 



cheapest commodity in the market, yet 
fifty thousand dollars seems rather a steep 
price to pay for a little bit of it. How- 
ever, the Crook's managers had learned 
one thing — if they were not before 
acquainted with it — how much sharper the 
hindsight of human nature is than its 
foresight. 

Speaking of Barras and his royal harvest, 
here is a story which may have some 
amusement in it for the reader. While the 
Crook was at the height of its popularity, 
its author, who was then living at the 
St. Nicholas Hotel, was besieged day and 
night by speculators anxious to make their 
fortune by securing the right to play the 
piece in some city or cities where it had 
not as yet been produced. One of these 
fellows — probably with the idea of getting 
ahead of somebody else, or, maybe, 
having faith in the early-bird-and-worm 
theory — made his call at the hotel about 
sunrise and insisted upon the clerk having 
Barras hustled out of bed, saying that he 
must see him and on a matter of the 
greatest importance to that gentleman. 
Barras dressed himself and came down, but 
not in the best of humors. He was fond 
13 



of his bed — 10 o'clock being his usual 
hour of leaving it — and the idea of having 
his morning nap broken in two had com- 
menced to heat up his pot of wrath. By 
the time he reached the hotel parlor it 
was at the boiling-point, and without much 
ado he began to ladle it out on the head of 
his caller. 

" Well, sir, what the'd — 1 do you mean 
by hauling me out of bed at this hour ? Is 
the hotel on fire ? ' ' 

' ' I beg pardon, Mr. Barras ; I was most 
anxious to see you and wanted to be sure 
of catching you in." 

' ' Catching me in ? Catching me in 
bed, I suppose you mean. Well, now 
you have caught me there, what do you 
want ? ' ' 

1 ( I would like to purchase the right to 
play the Black Crook in some city, I am 
not particular which one." 

Now, Barras was something of a humor- 
ist, fond of his joke, and always able to fit 
one in wherever he saw a place for it. So, 
putting the lid on his wrath, he took from 
his pocket a paper which he pretended was 
a list of the various cities for which the 
right to play the Crook had been sold. He 
14 



ran his eye over it, up and down, mum- 
bling its supposed contents to himself. 

"New York, Baltimore, Boston, St. 
Paul, Richmond, Chicago, Nashville, St. 
Louis, Minneapolis, Cleveland, New 
Orleans, Bangor, Savannah, Cincinnati, 
Louisville, San Francisco, Omaha, Pitts- 
burgh, Mobile, Memphis, Troy. — Ahem ! 
I am very sorry, sir, but your chances are 

slim. Every city and town is Stop a 

moment, I am wrong ; here is one left 
which may answer your purpose, as you 
say you are not particular. ' ' 
\ A light glowed in the caller's face as he 
eagerly asked : 

" Where— what is it?" 
" Sitka." 

The caller pondered a moment on the 
character of Sitka's population, which at 
that time consisted chiefly of bears and 
icebergs ; then the light in his face went 
out, and, picking up his hat, the caller 
I went out, too. 

I But to proceed. Now that the managers 
\ had secured their piece, another difficulty 
i stepped in the way of its production. We 
| had played the Ravels the previous season 
to such big business, they were re-engaged 

*5 



and we were now in the midst of this 
second engagement — a disastrous one — 
with six weeks of it yet to run. It was 
absolutely necessary that we have posses- 
sion of the stage in order to make the 
intended alterations in it, or, ' rather, to 
replace it with an entirely new one. We 
asked the Ravels to consent to some 
arrangement which would end their en- 
gagement and give us the use of the stage. 
They were obstinate, however, in their 
desire to play out their engagement, and 
consequently their consent came high. 
But we had to have it. They demanded 
the sum of ten thousand dollars — and 
got it. 

And now commenced the preparations, 
which, in their cost, were to exceed those 
of any spectacular play hitherto produced. 
Before the curtain rose on the Crook's first 
night, there had been an outlay of fifty- 
five thousand dollars. The bills and adver- 
tisements made the sum five thousand less ; 
but this was an error, and the kind of one 
that managers are not apt to make. (I need 
not have mentioned that fact. The public 
are already aware — for Shakspere's fat 
knight has so assured them — that "this/ 
16 



world is given to lying," and are also 
aware that a manager is no exception when 
the time comes to blazon his bills with the 
cost of a play.) The real expense of the 
Crook — by reason of the tangled condition 
of Jarrett & Palmer's account of outlay on 
the other side of the water, with Wheat- 
ley's on this side — was not known on the 
opening night, nor, indeed, for some 
time after. 

The fifty-five thousand was not long in 
coming back. In thirty-five performances — 
that is to say, five weeks including the five 
Saturday matinees — the Crook had taken 
in over eighty-seven thousand dollars ; the 
running expenses during that time being 
about thirty-one thousand five hundred, or 
a little over six thousand a week. 

And now for a bit of inside history that 
bears indirectly, if not directly, on the fate 
of the Crook. Some months previous to 
its production, the elder Bennett (of the 
Herald) and Barnum had a quarrel, which 
originated in this way : During the war, 
and toward the close of it, the great show- 
man's Museum was burned to the ground, 
and Bennett fixed a longing eye on the site 
as the most suitable one on which to erect, 



for the Herald) ] s accommodation, a big 
marble building that would be an orna- 
ment to the city and a monument to his 
individual pluck. 

He opened negotiations with the owner, 
with the high hope of securing the ground 
and beginning his building at once. A 
serious obstacle blocked the way. Bar- 
n urn's lease had still a year to run, and the 
wily showman would not consent to throw 
it up, except on such terms as Bennett 
thought most exorbitant. Perhaps they 
were. No doubt they were. The most 
auspicious time for a man to get the big- 
gest price for anything is the time when 
the other fellow can't do without it. And 
this was Bennett's fix. He paid the price, 
but he had something up his sleeve for the 
showman which the latter didn't look for. 
"Now, Mr. Barnum, there's your money; 
but, with it, I want you to understand that 
hereafter no advertisement of yours can go 
into the New York Herald at any price." 

This was a blow between the eyes for 
Barnum. The fire, though it had de- 
stroyed his Museum, had not burned up 
his love for humbug. He had already se- 
cured a building farther up Broadway, 

18 



where he intended to establish another 
home for his wooly horses and fish tail 
mermaids. Hence, Bennett's ultimatum 
staggered him. None knew better than he 
the value of the Herald as an advertising- 
medium, and to be shut out forever from 
the use of its columns would be a calamity 
he could not submit to ; nor would he, 
without a struggle. If he found that his 
struggle was vain and he must submit, 
then, he thought he saw a way to square 
accounts with Bennett by knocking him 
out with a sort of diplomatic sand-bag. 

He made his struggle, but to no purpose. 
He claimed that a newspaper, like an inn, 
was for the accommodation of the public ; 
and that its proprietor could be compelled 
to publish any advertisement that was not 
morally objectionable or libelous. As both 
Bennett and the law refused to look at it 
in that light, the showman gathered his 
wits together, thought of his sand-bag, 
and started for his revenge. 

This is the way he got it. 

But, stop ; I am a little ahead of my 
story. 

Some time before this quarrel, the man- 
agers of the various theatres and minstrel - 
19 



managers had formed a league for the pur- 
pose of fighting what they thought the 
unreasonable demands of the orchestra for 
more salary. These demands became too 
frequent and heavy to suit them, hence 
their league — which bore the somewhat 
grandiloquent title, "The Board of Asso- 
ciate Managers of New York" — came into 
existence. Its meetings were held in one 
of the rooms of the Metropolitan Hotel, 
and their average attendance was made up 
of, perhaps, eight or ten members. Bar- 
num was one of the big guns of the Board, 
and his influence there was the sand- 
bag he had in pickle for Bennett, and 
which he was now itching for an opportu- 
nity to use on the head of the unsuspecting 
Scotchman. The opportunity came. At 
the meeting following his quarrel he laid 
his complaint before the Board, declaring 
Bennett's action unwarranted and unjust, 
and then moved that the managers, in a 
body, withdraw all their advertisements 
and printing from the New York Herald. 

There was discussion, of course, and 
much of it. Barnum argued that the im- 
portance of the Herald was unduly magni- 
fied ; and that the Board's united action 



would render the omission of the adver- 
tisement harmless. Wheatley, on the other 
hand, took a different view. He thought 
that Barnum's remedy for his complaint, 
though it might be satisfactory to that 
gentleman, was an unwholesome dose for 
those who were suffering from no such ail- 
ment. It savored too much of the fox in 
the fable, who, having had his tail cut off, 
tried to persuade the others of his tribe 
that a tail was really of no use to a fox, 
and that they all would look much hand- 
somer without one. 

Barnum, however, had everything his 
own way, and his motion was seconded 
and carried with but two dissenting votes — 
William Wheatley's and L,ester Wallack's. 
Another motion was then made and carried. 
"All of our advertisements in the other 
papers, and all of our bills and posters, 
shall have the displayed headline : ' This 
establishment does not advertise in the 
New York Herald^ " — a line, by the way, 
often enough in the eye of the public to 
become a by-word, and to be used by every 
peanut-stand on the Bowery that could 
afford a bandbox-lid and a bit of charcoal. 

And thus Barnum got his revenge. It 



now remained to be seen who would have 
to pay for it. Wheatley took the matter 
philosophically, although his mind was 
somewhat exercised as to the attitude the 
Herald would take regarding the Crook. 
Either of two things might be looked for — 
silence or abuse. He preferred the latter, 
and got it. 

As to the motive behind Bennett's 
attacks, I have my own surmises. He was 
too shrewd a newspaper man, and too 
well equipped with knowledge of human 
nature, not to know that a column of the 
Herald) s abuse would be worth more to a 
manager's exchequer than a column of its 
praise, provided the abuse be of the right 
sort. He was, no doubt, aware of all that 
took place at the meeting of the Board of 
Managers in relation to the withdrawal of 
their advertising, and, possibly, had his 
information from Wheatley himself. He 
knew the stubborn stand the latter took in 
opposition to Barnum's motion, and also 
knew that he stood almost alone in his loy- 
alty to the Herald. Hence I think that 
good-will, and not enmity, was at the bot- 
tom of his action. I imagine the astute 
old Scotchman soliloquizing : "This man, 



Wheatley, is a good fellow, and a sensible 
one ; but I can't consistently puff his 
piece. I can, however, and will, do some- 
thing which may benefit him more. I will 
give him and his play a semi-weekly 
column of gold-edged abuse." 

Whether my imagination be right or 
wrong, I cannot say; but I can say that 
the abuse arrived on time. From the fol- 
lowing extracts the reader can judge 
whether the edges of it were of gold or 
only pinchbeck : — 

"Nothing in any other Christian coun- 
try, or in modern times, has approached 
the indecent and demoralizing exhibition 
at Wheatley' s Theatre in this city. The 
Model Artists are more respectable and less 
disgusting, because they are surrounded 
with a sort of mystery — something like a 
veil of secrecy — which women do not look 
behind and which men slip in stealthily to 
see. But the almost nude females at 
Wheatley's are brought out boldly before 
the public gaze. * * * 

" Of course, Wheatley is making money. 

It is just such a spectacle as will make an 

excitement and draw those crowds of loose 

characters and people with morbid, pru- 

23 



rient tastes, which may be found in all 
large cities. Then there are a great many 
people who come in from the surrounding 
country to get a glimpse of this new thing. 
We must not, therefore, give credit to our 
citizens for being the only supporters of 
the shocking performance. It gets a great 
deal of support from the countrymen 
who come to town expressly to see the 
1 elephant.' * * * 

' ' Nothing, as we said, has been wit- 
nessed in a theatre in Modern times so 
indecent as this spectacle. We can 
imagine there might have been in Sodom 
and Gomorrah such another place and 
scene, such a theatre and spectacle on the 
Broadway of those doomed cities just before 
fire and brimstone rained down upon them 
and they were buried in the ruins. 

c ' There was, too, we believe, similar 
places and scenes in Pompeii just as that 
city was buried beneath the eruption of 
Vesuvius. We may be saved, perhaps, 
from a like fate on account of the many 
good people there are in New York. * * * 
But that does not do away with the guilt 
of tolerating or permitting such an exhibi- 
tion to exist as that at Wheatley's. Our 
24 



respectable citizens should cry it down, and 
the police should arrest all engaged in such 
a violation of public decency and moral- 
ity. * * * 

" L,et all husbands and parents and guar- 
dians who value the morals of their wives, 
their daughters, and their wards, bear a 
watchful eye on their charges, and keep 
them from out the walls of Niblo's Garden 
during the reign of the Black Crook. * * * 

" If any of the Herald? s readers, in spite 
of its warnings and advice, are determined 
to gaze on the indecent and dazzling brill- 
iancy of the Black Crook, they should pro- 
vide themselves with a piece of smoked 
glass. ' ' 

Another and a very potent element in 
the making up of the Crook's success was 
the war waged against it by a portion of 
the New York Pulpit. The most influen- 
tial of these warriors — by "influential" I 
mean in his unconscious and unintentional 
aid to the Crook — was the Rev. Dr. Charles 
B. Smyth. He planted his batteries at the 
Cooper Institute, and on Sunday, Novem- 
ber 1 8th, opened his fire with a red-hot 
shot at the fair breastworks of the Crook. 
He took for his text : 
25 



"THE NUISANCES OF NEW YORK, 

PARTICULARLY 

THE NAKED TRUTH." 

This was not from the Bible, but the 
reverend gentleman thought it had more 
powder in it and would make more noise 
than any Biblical one. Perhaps he was 
right in this, but he was wrong if he sup- 
posed that New York sinners would rather 
hear "the Naked Truth" than see it. 
However, the Institute was well filled, and 
the sermon — if sermon it could be called — ■ 
seemed to please his hearers. And not 
them alone. When it appeared in the 
Herald of next morning the whole city 
was delighted with it, and none had more 
cause for delight than the managers of the 
Black Crook. 

This choice bit of "the Naked Truth" 
will show why. 

"But our chief concern to-day is with 
the dancing theatrical representations, and 
of a particular establishment which has 
lately attracted a great deal of attention. 
I know not what may have been the mo- 
tive that impelled the gentlemen, to 
whom it belongs, to get up its sights. 
26 



Who can tell but their love of human 
nature in general is such that, from the 
most generous impulses, they have gotten 
up an expensive and dazzling entertain- 
ment purely for the purpose of lightening 
the cares of life of the busy and careworn 
by giving the latter an opportunity, on as 
low terms, almost, as the most extravagant 
places of amusement, of seeing by gas- 
light and hell- fire light, and in the bronzed 
light of His Satannic Majesty's counte- 
nance, and in the red glare of the record- 
ing demon, the beautiful countenances, 
regular busts, trunks and limbs chiseled 
out from head to foot by Nature's own 
hand with an exquisiteness of perfection 
far surpassing any that the finest art of 
man has ever wrought in Parian marble, 
with charms more bewitching and attitudes 
of softness and luxury most fascinat- 
ing. * * * Poor, dear, darling, charming, 
enchanting creatures ; who could help lov- 
ing them ? ' ' 

There may have been some brimstone in 
all this, but scarcely of the sort to scare 
the sight-loving theatre-goer and frighten 
him away from Niblo's. If the average 
New Yorker has any wholesome fear of 
27 



hell-fire — which some people doubt — it 
must be poked under his nose in a very 
different manner. His curiosity is vigorous 
and easily aroused, and when it is he takes 
the first opportunity to put it to sleep 
again, and all the brimstone that this world 
contains, or the other either, can't stop 
him. Now, among the crowd that listened 
to the Reverend Mr. Smyth's discourse, I 
will venture to say there were few, if any, 
whose curiosity was not wide awake, and 
who did not make an inward resolve to 
look at once on the wickedness of the 
Crook, or if they had already been guilty 
of that crime, to double it up and take 
another look. 

Unfortunately for the Crook, the rev- 
erend gentleman's bombardment at the In- 
stitute met with an untimely end. His 
first broadside displeased the trustees, who 
spiked his guns, and in a summary manner: 
"Mr. Smyth, we are no judge of powder, 
and yours may be all that you think it is. 
But we do know brimstone when we smell 
it, and the fragrance of yours is not ortho- 
dox enough to suit the noses of the trus- 
tees. You will therefore remove your bat- 
teries and fire your brimstone from other 
28 



quarters whose nostrils are more ignorant 
or less particular. ' ' 

And thus the Crook lost one of its props; 
but its superstructure now was so strongly 
underpinned by popular support, the loss 
of one prop was of little consequence. 

The following announce bill of the 
opening night shows both the outlay on 
the Crook and the lay-out it had in store 
for the eyes of its patrons. 

NIBL,0'S GARDEN. 

Lessee and Manager, William Wheatley. 

Doors open at 7. Begins at 7%. 

OPENING OF THE REGULAR SEASON. 
Monday, September 10th, 1866, and every evening-, and Sat- 
urday afternoon at 2 o'clock, will be presented an Original and 
Grand Magical Spectacular Drama in 4 acts, by C. M. Barras, 
Esq., entitled, 

THE BLACK CROOK, 

the sole right of which production has been purchased by Mr. 
Wheatley, for New York and its vicinity. Mr. Wheatley is 
likewise happy in having entered into arrangements with 
Messrs. Jarrett & Palmer for the introduction of their 

GREAT PARISIENNE BALLET TROUPE, 
under the direction of the famed Maitre de Ballet, Signor 
David Costa (from the Grand Opera, Paris). 

PREMIER DANSEURS ASSOLUTE. 
Mlle. Marie Bonfanti, from the Grand Opera, Paris, and 

Covent Garden Theatre, London. 

Mlle. Rita Sangali, from the Grand Opera, Berlin, and 

Her Majesty's Theatre, London. 

Their first appearance in America. 

FIRST PREMIER AND SOLOIST. 

Mlle. Betty Regal, from the Grand Opera, Paris. 

Her first appearance in America. 

2 9 



SECOND PREMIERS AND SOLOISTS. 



Mile. Louise Mazzeri, 
" Guiseppi, 
" Lusardi, 
" Marie Duclos, 

from Berlin, Milan, 



Mile. Giovanna Mazzeri, 
" Amele Zuccoli, 
" Eugenie Zuccoli, 
" Helene Duclos, 
Paris, and London. 



CORYPHEES. 



Mile. E. Regal, 
" Amande, 
" Nathalie, 
" Doche, 
" Lacroix, 
" Portois, 
" Chereri, 
" Artois, 
' ' Elise, 
" Duval, 

from Paris, London, and Berlin. 
Their first appearance in America 



and 



Mile, Gabrielle, 

" Irban, 

" Marie, 

" Helene, 
Delval, 

" Bertha, 

" L. Portois, 

" Centbertrand. 

" H. Delval, 

" Paulina, 



FIFTY AUXILIARY LADIES 



selected from the principal theatres of London, and America. 



THE LEADING ROLES 
on this most 

Resplendent, Grand, and Costly Production 
ever presented on this Continent will be sustained by the fol- 
lowing artistes, comprising many well-known names and new 
candidates for public favor. 

Misses Annie Kemp (Prima donna Contralto, from Covent 
Garden, London ; her first appearance in America in six years). 
Mary "Wells, Rose Morton (from Royal Lyceum Theatre, Lon- 
don ; her first appearance in America). Milly Cavendish 
(from Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, London ; her first appear- 
ance in America). Messrs. George C. Boniface (first appearance 
in many years). J. G. Burnett, H. C. Morton (first appear- 
ance). George Atkins (from Sadler's Wells Theatre, London ; 
first appearance in America). The well-known Pantomimist, 
Hernandez Foster (his first appearance at this theatre). J. W. 
Blaisdell, E. B. Holmes, F. Barry, Rendle, &c, &c. 

The Drama produced under the immediate direction of 
W. Wheatley. 

The gorgeous and brilliant new scenery by those eminent 
masters of Scenic Art, Messrs. Richard Marston (of the 
Covent Garden, London), J. E. Hayes, R. Smith, B. A. Strong, 
L. F. Server, and Walack. 

30 



THE DAZZLING TRANSFORMATION SCENE, 
painted by 

THE BROTHERS BREW, 
of London, for E. M. Smith, Esq., of Astley's Theatre, London, 
and purchased by Messrs. Jarrett & Palmer, at a cost of 
Fifteen Thousand Dollars. 

ESPECIAL NEW MUSIC, 
composed by Thomas E. Baker, by courtesy of Leonard Grover, 
Esq., and produced under the baton of H. G. Dodworth. 

ENTIRELY NEW AND SUPERB COSTUMES, 
by M. Philipe. 

The GLITTERING AND ENTIRELY NEW ARMORS and BALLET 

Paraphernalia, prepared expressly in Paris, by Granger. 

ENTIRELY NEW PROPERTIES AND APPOINTMENTS, 
by S. Wallis. 
THE NEW STAGE AND MACHINERY, 
combining the greatest improvements of Europe and America, 
making it equal, if not superior to any in the world, and con- 
structed at a cost of over ten thousand dollars, by those skillful 
machinists, John Froude, of Her Majesty's Theatre, London, 
and Benson Sherwood of this establishment. 

THE COMPLETE GAS CONTRIVANCES, 
by C. Murray. The Calcium Lights, &c, for the Transformation 
Scene, by Charles Seward, of London (engaged expressly for 
the occasion). 

The whole involving an outlay of 

FIFTY THOUSAND DOLLARS. 
Admission, 75 cents. Secured seats in Dress Circle, $1.00. 
Reserved seats in Parquet and Parquet Circle, $1.50. Family Circle 
(entrance on Crosby Street), 50 cents. Private Boxes, $8 and $10. 
Seats secured six days in advance. 

The nightly expenses exceeded one 
thousand dollars, the weekly salaries of the 
Ballet alone — the European part of it — 
being one thousand and seventy-five dol- 
lars in gold, then quoted at 150. The 
piece had a continuous run of nearly six- 
teen months, and yielded a profit of about 
31 



1 



three hundred thousand dollars to Wheat- 
ley, an equal sum to Jarrett & Palmer, and 
sixty thousand dollars to Barras. The 
speculators, too, had a profitable finger in 
the Crook's pie. Rullman, the king of 
their clan, told me he made about thirty 
thousand dollars ; and doubtless there was 
none of them who didn't make enough to 
clothe his back with comfort and his 
stomach with beer and pretzels for the 
remainder of his days. 

I have said nothing of the literary 
merits of the Crook, for the best of rea- 
sons — it had none. This, however, is no 
serious fault. Elegant writing, with its 
daintily picked words and smooth-flowing 
sentences, is all well enough in its place ; 
but that place is not in the drama of this 
prosy, money-grabbing age. The play- 
goer doesn't relish it. What he wants is 
something to please his eye and tickle his 
ear — something to strangle his cares and 
cut the throat of his troubles — something 
to make him laugh and forget he has a 
note to pay to-morrow, with no money to 
meet it. This is what he is after, and 
shrewd managers will show their shrewd- 
ness by accommodating him. 
32 




THE CROOK'S CRADLE. 

NIBLO'S GARDEN IN 1828. 

From the New York Clipper. 



: 



